


30 Days of Writing

by doctorrsong



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorrsong/pseuds/doctorrsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which I fill 30 'word' prompts. Ratings will vary depending on the prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fingertips

When he came into the house, Rumplestiltskin had to pause in the doorway. With his foot on the cusp, smoke assailed his senses. He grimaced, waving his hand in front of his face and opening the door wider. The current from the open space sucked fumes out of the house, and he left it open as he made his way to the kitchen.

 

“Belle?”  he called, coughing slightly as the smell intensified. The relatively small amount of actual smoke in the air tempered his concern as he walked down the hall. The smoke alarm was singing its tune, and he picked up a book to wave under it until it quieted.  “Sweetheart?” he called again.

 

“Don’t come into the kitchen!” she cried just as he poked his head in. Her back was turned to him as she waved a tea towel frantically over a smoking pan. She was standing near an open window, trying to send the smoke outside.

 

Biting down on the inside of his cheek and swallowing a laugh, he came up behind her anyway. “What are you doing?”

 

Belle spun around and he put his hands up when she whipped him with the towel. “Rumple!” she pursed her lips. “You didn’t listen.”

 

“I wanted to know if you were burning our house down for any particular reason.”

 

She huffed, giving him a nasty look as she turned and continued to fan what he now identified as a cupcake mold. “I was trying to use the oven,” she growled. He watched her before pressing in behind her, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder while his arms slid smoothly around her waist. She kept fanning the pan stubbornly for a long moment before finally stilling with an explosive sigh and leaning back against him. “I read the entire instruction manual. I don’t understand what went wrong.”

 

“Why didn’t you ask me to show you how to use it, darling?” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to her neck. Without memories of this world, he knew she was often at a loss. But she was stubborn too. She wanted to learn on her own, and he couldn’t fault her that.

 

She made a small noise and shook her head. “You can’t teach me everything, Rumple. I have to learn how to function in this world by myself.” She turned her head and found his lips.

 

“You’re right,” he agreed against her mouth. “But you don’t have to learn _everything_ alone. I’m happy to help.”

 

“I just wanted to try.” she gestured to the pan deprecatorily. “But now they’re ruined.”

 

“They’re not,” he argued, releasing her and taking a step back. He shrugged his jacket off and tossed it on a chair back while she turned to watch him curiously.

 

“Rumple, they’re ruined.”

 

He offered her a grin. “It doesn’t matter.” He had a plan. Besides, he would gladly eat anything she made if it would get her to stop frowning. Nothing she offered could be as terrible as what he’d had to eat in his lifetime. He had an iron stomach.

 

She looked like she wanted to argue with him, but said nothing as he rolled his sleeves up. Without a word, he started moving around the kitchen. He only needed a few ingredients: powdered sugar, butter, and food colouring. He could feel her eyes following him as he took out a bowl and began to combine them with quick motions. In moments, he had a batch of bright blue icing ready to cover up her wrecked cupcakes.

 

“We’ll cover them with this, and they’ll be fine. Icing makes everything better,” he promised. He dipped the tip of his finger into the icing. “Do you want to taste?” he asked, lifting his finger to his mouth and extending the bowl to her. Her hand on his wrist suddenly stopped him, and he stared at her as she smiled slowly.

 

“I _would_ like to taste,” she whispered, her eyes on his as she tugged his hand down to taste the icing on his skin. Her tongue flicked out, and he nearly dropped the bowl he held in his other hand when her lips wrapped around him. Her tongue swirled around his fingertip and she sucked the rest of the icing off, keeping eye contact all the while, and releasing his finger with a _pop._

“What do you think?” he asked breathlessly.

 

She licked her lips. “I think you’re right; icing does make everything better.”


	2. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains spoilers for 3x22.

Leaning back from his work with a sigh, Rumplestiltskin had to bite back a groan when something spasmed in the muscles of his lower back. The chair creaked with his movements, the old leather loud in the silence of his office. He braced one hand on his desk and arched his back slightly as he reached back between him and the chair to press against his offending spine.

 

With Storybrooke’s new threat looming overhead, he had been spending all of his time pouring over ancient tomes for clues that could help the town gain the upper hand in an impending fight. The Snow Queen wasn’t an idle threat, and her urn had been stowed away for good reason if the scriptures were to be trusted. He couldn’t comprehend what kind of magic she wielded when he’d first acquired the urn, and he had been cautious to keep her in her dormant state. He’d kept her locked away in his vault for centuries, unwilling to risk unleashing something he couldn’t control. Now he was no closer to understanding her, and she was free.

 

A glint caught his eye, distracting him from his musings, and he stared at his hand where it rested upon the desk. The gold band around his finger reflected the lamp light gently as his stomach fluttered at the sight. _Belle._ She was in the library, trying to brush up on the more recent tales that might touch upon the Snow Queen. They were both diligently working to keep the town informed. Knowledge was their greatest asset against this immeasurable threat.

 

He forgot about his back and the town as his wife overtook his thoughts, and he lifted his other hand to trace a finger over his wedding band. It was smooth and warm under his fingertip, and he was smiling without even realising it as he admired the jewellery. He couldn’t even bring himself to take it off his finger to look at the engraving inside the band. He didn’t want to be without it for even a moment.

 

Its place was on his finger, and what it represented made both his smile and the fluttering in his belly grow. This tiny gold circle symbolized Belle’s desire to share her life with him. It meant that she understood the man she married was flawed beyond repair and that she wanted him anyway. It meant that she accepted and loved him despite and becauseof his flaws. This ring was the physical reminder that he belonged to her, and that she _wanted_ him to be hers.

 

The reminder that she wore the same symbol on her finger had him on his feet in an instant. He gathered up his coat and tucked the tome he’d been working on under his arm, the need to see his wife overtaking everything else. The Snow Queen had made her appearance the day after their wedding, and Rumplestiltskin was very aware of how little time he’d been able to spend with Belle. They’d mercifully been left in peace on their wedding night, and for the first time in a long while, they’d been able to devote themselves to each other wholly.  

 

He locked up without delay, turning the key smoothly and heading across the deserted street. She was entirely too close for him to resist her pull. Besides, there was no reason they couldn’t both work on gathering information at the library. In fact, he knew they were better together.


	3. Hurt

Belle knew it was silly, but she hated to be alone during stormy nights. Every sound echoed through the empty castle, and the wind rattling against the windows made her hair stand on end. When she’d been a little girl, her father would gather her in front of a blazing fire and sit her down in his lap. Many in the town would take shelter with them, and Belle would be regaled with stories and treats while the storm raged. For her, storms were about community and warmth.

Rumplestiltskin was bristly even when he was in his lighter moods, but she still preferred his presence to this crushing solitude. Her book lay forgotten on the floor, and she stared into the fireplace numbly. The flames danced for her, but she couldn’t find any comfort within the blaze.

Her melancholy skidded to a halt when the familiar sound of the doors banging open announced Rumplestiltskin’s presence. Without a word or a thought, she sprang to her feet, smoothing out her skirts as she hurried to the door. She was ready to greet him with a warm smile, but the sight of him froze her smile in place. Her breath left her like it had been sucked right out of her lungs, but it only took her a moment to react.

Coming closer to his tattered form, she placed her hands on his shoulders before he could notice her, and she felt him flinch. He only calmed when he registered her voice. “What happened to you?” she whispered.

He grunted, and she knew that when he deigned to lean on her, she had reason to be concerned about his injuries. “A trap,” he said through gritted teeth. His voice sounded rough, like he’d hadn’t had anything to drink in days. “I was foolish.” She led him to the fire and the blanket she’d had spread out on the floor before. He sank down with her help, and her knees nearly gave out with trying to support his weight and her own. “The injuries are resistant to magic. I cannot heal myself.”

“Take off whatever you can. I’ll fetch some water and bandages.” She could already feel that her hands were sticky with his blood, and so she hesitated to look at them as she searched for a pitcher and a cup. The bandages were trickier to find, but she managed it all quickly enough, sparing just a moment to rinse the blood from her skin. She returned to his side in barely any time at all.

He had managed to shrug his heavy coat off, but that was as far as he’d gotten before collapsing. She set everything down on the floor as she knelt next to him. He’d sprawled onto his back, his breath leaving him raggedly and his hand clutching his side.

“It’ll be alright,” she soothed when he moaned weakly. Her hands moved to the lacing of his vest, and she shook her head, shifting to reach for the knife she knew he kept concealed within his boot. She slipped her hand just inside the leather and felt her fingers closing around the hilt before carefully pulling out the sharp blade. Without delay, she cut the lacing holding his vest together before ridding him of the garment entirely. Next, she pulled the silk of his shirt away from his body just far enough to cut it open without risking injuring him further.

After washing the blood from his skin, she had opportunity to get a good look at the extent of the injury. It had seemed horrible when she’d first opened his shirt, but now that the excessive blood was gone, she knew she could handle it. She hadn’t spent her time under the ogre’s siege sitting idly. Everything she could learn in those years, she had. She hadn’t thought that she’d have to worry about stitching someone up again after making her deal, but she was glad to have the skill to help him.

When she made to stand up and gather more supplies, Rumplestiltskin’s hand closed around her wrist. She met his eyes curiously, and behind the pain clouding his vision, she thought she could see something else in his gaze.

“Belle,” he gasped with difficulty. “You were the only one I could trust.”

Rather than the words he spoke, Belle understood only their meaning. _Thank you._


	4. Game

Dropping her cards on the table, Belle grinned at the look on Rumplestiltskin’s face. He narrowed his eyes at her cards before lifting his eyes to hers.

 

“You’re cheating,” he accused.

 

Belle raised her brows and leaned back against her chair. “Am I?” she challenged.

 

He was silent for a moment before sighing and loosening his tie. They both knew she wasn’t cheating. She watched him unabashedly as he stripped off his tie, and she felt the flush rising to her cheeks. The challenge of the game intensified the excitement of each article she won, and her smile grew as he handed over his tie. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.

 

When they first began, she had protested the amount of clothing he had on in comparison to her more modest assembly, and he’d agreed to take off two pieces for every one of hers.

 

Passing the tie through her fingers languidly, she enjoyed the sensation of the silk against her skin even as she watched him reach down to pull off a sock. He was likely regretting agreeing to the rule of two considering he’d only won a single game thus far. She’d decided to be saucy when he’d demanded an article of clothing from her, and she’d slipped her knickers out from under her dress. He had the lace tucked into his chest pocket, and she was positive that the distraction was helping her along. When he tossed the sock at her, she placed it neatly on top of the rest of the clothes pile.

 

“How are you so good at this?” he demanded as he began shuffling the cards. She had him under oath that he wouldn’t use magic to gain the upper hand over her.

 

She shrugged her shoulders, remembering to look calm and loose even though each win made her want to grin from ear to ear. “I spent some time in taverns during my travels,” she admitted. Grumpy had taught her a thing or two about cards—and men were always willing to teach a pretty girl if it meant they could spend time with her.

 

He dealt the cards, his hands moving quickly.

 

Belle took a sip of her drink, enjoying the way it made her fingers tingle before picking up the hand he had dealt her. She took a cursory glance, keeping her expression neutral even as pleasure spread through her. She looked up from the cards calmly and found Rumplestiltskin watching her intently. His lips were pursed and his eyes were narrowed, but when she met his eye, he looked down at his own cards quickly.

 

When they’d started playing, she’d initially though he’d been trying to trick her by playing badly, but she’d quickly realised he was incapable of keeping his thoughts guarded from her. She wondered how it was that he’d been so successful in manipulating Regina and the rest of the residents of Storybrooke when she could almost name the cards he held just from looking at his expression.

As it was, he wasn’t pleased with his hand. She passed her eyes over him, pleased that she’d likely be earning his belt next. She looped his tie over her shoulders, offering him a smile when he cleared his throat and fiddled with his shirt collar.

 

They continued playing for some time, and when Rumplestiltskin was down to his trousers, Belle found that the most pleasant warmth passed through her from the drink, from her victories, and from Rumplestiltskin sitting so close to her with barely anything on. This slow strip was making her anticipation mount, and she was barely stopping herself from crawling into his lap and helping him rid himself of the rest of his clothing.

 

As she met his eyes again, she couldn’t miss the heat he watched her with. He had his own drink in his hand, and he held her gaze as he took a long pull from it.

 

“Another?” he asked, standing and setting the card deck down. They hadn’t yet begun the next round. She nodded, holding her glass out to him as he went to the kitchen. His trousers hung low on his hips without the support of his belt and she could see the band of his underwear peeking out above the black material.

 

She rose and followed after him, coming up behind him and pressing herself against his back.

 

“Mm,” he breathed when she ran her hands over his stomach. She felt his abdominal muscles twitch as she pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades before rubbing her cheek against his skin. “Come here,” he growled, reaching back and gently tugging her around him. She found herself between him and the counter, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders when he bent and caught her lips. She felt his hands skimming down her back before he was cupping her arse and lifting her up onto the counter.

 

Belle bit at his lip lightly before passing her tongue over it. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and they both moaned as he pressed against her. Both were breathing hard, and she shifted her hips against him, easily feeling that their game had excited him as much as it had her. “Are we done playing now?”


End file.
